


Everybody's Talking About MJamie!

by Noruway



Category: ASTRO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everybody's Talking About Jamie, Anxiety, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hinted myungbin, Hinted myungjin, Humor, Insecurity, Lowkey Crack, MJamie, Moon Bin is a Good Friend, Multi, Park Jinwoo is a Sweetheart, Sexuality, and then becomes Jamie, basically MJ gets cast as Jamie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25873000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noruway/pseuds/Noruway
Summary: The first thing he notices is his platinum blonde hair, mussed from sleep but still very much not the dark brunette he’d sported the day prior. Then, his eyes skim down his face. His cheeks are a bit chubbier, eyebags no longer present, a few stray pimples dotting his nose. And, although it’s difficult to tell, he’s pretty sure he’s a few inches shorter than he had been.Before he can process the information, before he can even begin to freak out over this revelation, his thoughts are interrupted by—“Jamie! Time to get up, don’t wanna be late for school.”Oh no.
Relationships: Kim Myungjun | MJ & Everyone, Kim Myungjun | MJ & Moon Bin, Kim Myungjun | MJ & Park Jinwoo | Jin Jin, Kim Myungjun | MJ/Moon Bin, Kim Myungjun | MJ/Park Jinwoo | Jin Jin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	Everybody's Talking About MJamie!

Myungjun stares at the script in his hands, jaw dropped and eyes bugging out of their sockets. Right in the center of the cover, in big, bold font, _Jamie_ is printed, his own name just beneath. Kim Myungjun - Jamie New.

_Is this a prank?_

_Am I dreaming?_

_… did Bin set this up?_

One hard self-pinch to the arm tells him that, no, this is not a dream (by the way, _ouch,_ that _fucking hurt)._ He yelps and flinches at his own action, and maybe his manager would look more concerned if constant screaming and overdramatic movements weren’t a normal occurrence, anyways. Instead, he waits for Myungjun to regain some semblance of calm before rattling off his new schedule, but the latter barely listens, focusing more on the weight in his hands which tells him he’s so close to achieving his dream.

With a strong pat on his shoulder, his manager finally dismisses him. The ride back to the dorm is filled with unusual tension. The staff pick up on his change in attitude, obviously, because he can’t trust himself to joke around with everyone without spilling the news. It wouldn’t have been a problem, but he really wants his members to be the first to know (well, aside from management, of course).

As soon as the van pulls up to their building, Myungjun bolts from the vehicle, ignoring his bodyguard’s shouts of protest as he stumbles and skids on his way to the elevator. When it takes too long to arrive, he opts to use the stairs, once again darting out of his guard’s reach as he breaks for the stairwell.

He’s not outrunning the man, though, that’s for damn sure. Even as he bounds up the steps to the fourth floor, heavy footsteps linger just a few beats behind.

Myungjun knows he’s going to get lectured, but he’s far too ecstatic to worry about that. Glancing over his shoulder once he reaches the entrance to their dorm, he shoots his bodyguard the most charming grin he can muster before unlocking the door and skirting inside.

“I’M HOOOOME!”

No one responds. Which, in fairness, he should’ve expected, since the other members have long-since learned to tune out Myungjun’s general… _extraness,_ is likely the best word. But he has a legitimate reason to disturb them, today! So, Myungjun pops his head into the living room and, upon spotting Sanha and Moonbin playing some video game on the couch, he drops everything but the script in his hands.

The second he blocks their view of the TV, the pair don twin expressions of frustration.

 _“Ahh,_ Hyung!” Sanha whines, trying and failing to shove Myungjun out of the way. Because, for as many muscles their maknae has developed, he loves feeling like a younger brother more than he lets on— the members all know, but Sanha doesn’t know that they know, so they just let him believe he’s being discrete. _“Mooooove.”_

“Oh? What’s this?” Myungjung feigns ignorance, Sanha continuing to whine about Bin winning the game, since MJ refuses to budge. “I had no idea we lived on a farm! Moo~ _Moo~!”_

The tell-tale sound of Sanha’s character being obliterated sounds from behind him, and the maknae pouts, slinging his controller on the couch beside him. Before Myungjun can deliver his news, though, Bin jumps up, digging his fingers into his sides. 

Falling into the couch with a squeal, Myungjun gasps for breath as Bin pins him down and continues tickling him. Tears spring to his eyes, involuntary laughter bubbling from his belly to his throat while he squirms and fights under his bandmate’s weight. Sanha holds his arms down so that all he can do is beg for mercy. By the time his attackers finally relent, Myungjun’s cheeks are wet and his sides are sore, his chest heavy where Bin still rests against him. At some point, Sanha had released his arms and disappeared somewhere else.

Chest heaving, Myungjun smiles tiredly up at Bin, who grins right back, his eyes thinning into crescents. They stay like that for a moment, each calming down from their roughhousing, before Myungjun remembers the script he’d been holding and frantically swivels his head in an attempt to locate it.

“What’s wrong, hyung?”

Myungjun ignores Bin’s confusion in favor of grabbing the slightly wrinkled script that had fallen beside the couch in their scuffle, presenting it to Bin with a proud smirk. The latter peers at it for a moment, before his eyes widen and he steals the stack of papers from Myungjun’s hands.

“You got the part?!” he shouts, flipping through the pages as if he’ll find the whole thing to be a joke. 

“Yes yes _yes!”_ Myungjun confirms, and he’s almost immediately tugged off the couch straight into a hug. Bin nearly crushes him from the force of it, MJ wheezing at his strength, but he simply lifts Myungjun off the ground and twirls them in a wide circle. If Myungjun clings a little tighter to Bin, it’s so he won’t fall (definitely not because of the overwhelming fondness he feels for his bandmate). 

Really, though, Bin’s excitement shouldn’t surprise him. After all, Bin had been the one to stay up with him, watching the English version of the play over and over again with Korean subtitles as Myungjun tried to perfect his mannerisms. Bin had been the one to run through his lines for the audition the most, and Bin had been the one to help him practice "Don’t Even Know It _,"_ giving him boundless feedback and suggestions. Thus, Myungjun’s success had become his own, as well.

Bin eventually places him down, gentler than he’d expected, and the pair stare at each other for a long moment, basking in the joy they both feel.

The moment is broken once Sanha returns, Minhyuk in tow. “What’s going on?” the maknae questions, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Myungjun snatches his script back from Bin, beaming as he waves it in front of them.

“I got cast! I’m Jamie! I’m _Jamie!”_ Myungjun proclaims, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he proceeds to describe exactly what happened during the earlier meeting with management. 

Despite how his words run together with how fast he’s talking, the maknaes get the gist and promptly congratulate their hyung. Minhyuk gives him a long hug, squeezing him tight as he praises Myunjun’s efforts. Sanha squeaks out something about “you’re so cool, hyung, don’t forget your lines!” then darts down the hallway before Myungjun can pinch him.

“Yah! Get back here, you brat!” he yells, chasing after Sanha while brandishing his script as a weapon. “Yoon Sanha!”

Myungjun slides into his room and spots Sanha trying his absolute best to hide all six feet of him behind a very confused Jinwoo. “Save me, Jinjin-hyung!” he pleads, but the leader’s reflexes are nowhere near quick enough to stop Myungjun from pinching Sanha’s earlobe and dragging him down to his level.

“Apologize! Say you’re sorry. _Say it.”_ The eldest quite loudly commands, to which Sanha garbles out some kind of repentance in between whines of pain. Myungjun is satisfied, though, so he releases Sanha and watches him escape from his clutches.

“Should I even ask?” Jinwoo drawls, although he can do nothing to hide the warmth in his tone.

Myungjun’s eyes light up, and he moves to stand in front of Jinjin, hiding his new script behind his back. “Perfect idea! You should most _definitely_ ask me, Jin-ah. Go on, I know you want to. Don’t you? _Hm?”_

An amused chuckle slips past the younger’s lips as he crosses his arms. His biceps bulge even through the soft fabric of his oversized blue sweater, and Myungjun thinks that’s an accurate representation of Jinwoo’s personality. Tattoos hidden behind pastels. Sharp features obscured by dainty, wire-framed spectacles. Jinwoo is a man with undeniable strength, yet one that chooses to wrap himself in softness and present himself as a safe place for those who need it. A rock covered in quilts and blankets.

“Alright, then,” Jinwoo states, quieter than before, and Myungjun appreciates it despite how wound up he is. “What’s got you in a good mood, hyung?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Myungjun reveals the script, allowing Jinwoo to take it and read its cover. Almost comically slowly, Jinwoo’s mouth drops open, his jaw gaping as he reads the words over and over again, shifting his gaze from the booklet to Myungjun and back again. Unable to bear the silence any longer, Myungjun pushes the script down and forces Jinwoo to make eye contact.

“Well? Aren’t you going to say something?”

Jinwoo blinks a few times before tossing the script onto the nearest bed and wrapping his arms around Myungjun’s torso. He reciprocates by loosely draping his arms around Jinwoo’s shoulders, barely registering the fact that they’re shaking.

“Jin-ah, are you crying?” Myungjun gently urges Jinwoo away from his body, reaching his hand up to dry the few tears that have escaped. The latter’s face is raw with pride and happiness, so much so that Myungjun feels his own eyes start to water. “Hey, come on now,” he prods, voice quivering. “Ah, _Jin-ah,_ save your tears for when you see me on stage, yeah?”

Myungjun leads Jinwoo to his bed and pulls him to sit beside him, still gently thumbing away his tears. Jinwoo gives a wet sniffle as his tears finally cease. “Sorry,” he croaks, and Myungjun tuts at him.

“Silly boy, getting so emotional over this, _aigoo~”_ he chides, scooting back so he can lean against the wall, enjoying a brief rest before the inevitable nervous energy floods his system. Jinwoo does the same, tilting his head so he can stare at Myungjun with that proud glimmer in his eyes.

“How can I not be?” he murmurs. “You’ve wanted this for so long. To be in a musical, to be in _this_ musical. And now- now it’s all coming together. I know…” Jinwoo swallows, turning his head away. Myungjun laces their fingers together in a soft encouragement. “I know it hasn’t been easy, hiding a part of yourself. None of us have had it easy, I suppose. But I hope this is an opportunity to express at least a part of your true self.” 

_I hope you’ll be happy,_ goes unsaid, but Myungjun understands the sentiment.

And the thing is, this isn’t surprising, either. Myungjun has confided in Jinwoo since the very beginning. They know each other’s secrets, their habits, the little quirks you could only notice if you know to look for them. They’ve grown around each other, moulded into a friendship in which their lives are so deeply intertwined, falling apart would break them both.

So, it’s only natural that Jinwoo was the first to know about Myungjun’s sexuality. It was right after their debut, when everything had been so new and hectic and stressful, but also so _incredible._ Perhaps, it was this sense of accomplishment, of _finally_ achieving what they’d trained so hard for, that found Myungjun and Jinwoo sat shoulder-to-shoulder on Myungjun’s top bunk. Their excitement had long-since given way to exhaustion, but neither could bring themselves to fall asleep. In a fit of tiredness and giggles as they spoke of the future, Myungjun had blurted out something about his future boyfriend, only registering his own words after Jinwoo had fallen into silence.

Myungjun had panicked, sobbing and begging Jinwoo not to tell anyone. Once he’d calmed down, Jinwoo had given him quiet reassurances, as well as confided in him about his own bisexuality. Since that tearful night of confessions and comfort, Myungjun has come to acknowledge Jinwoo as his best friend. A few other members have since come out, but none will fulfill the role that Jinwoo does in Myungjun’s life.

“I’m happy, Jin-ah,” Myungjun assures him, resting his head on the latter’s shoulder. The reality is finally sinking in, and a dark sense of dread weighs in his stomach. “But-” he stutters, squeezing Jinwoo’s hand for comfort. “I’m scared, too.”

Though he can’t see from this position, Myungjun can imagine the way the corners of Jinwoo’s lips have turned downwards. He doesn’t say anything, though, merely offering his presence to listen, and Myungjun is grateful.

“I’ve never been in theater before. I haven’t even _acted_ since our debut, and now I’m supposed to go on stage and pretend to know what I’m doing?” Insecurity claws its way from his chest to the backs of his eyes, scratching and prodding and telling him he’s not good enough. “I was probably only chosen because I’ve got some recognition. They’ll take one look at me and know I can’t do it. It’s not like they can’t just replace me— three other people have been cast as Jamie, you know? I’m not special.”

“Hyung,” Jinwoo’s voice helps to quell the building anxiety, though it lingers in the back of his mind. Myungjun lifts his head and glances at Jinwoo, who offers him a disarming smile. “You are good enough. They chose you because you’re talented. Because you are the _best_ for the role. You earned this, Myungjunnie, all on your own.”

The nickname leaves no room for argument, but there’s still so much more plaguing Myungjun’s mind, boiling in the pit of his stomach and clogging his throat.

“And what about that? What if I’m _too_ perfect for the role, and everyone finds out? What if— if people _know,_ after this? I can’t— people can’t know. What about my _parents,_ oh god-”

“Myungjun.” Once again, it’s Jinwoo’s voice that keeps him from spiraling, this time accompanied by a firm arm winding around his shoulders and pulling him into his chest. _“Breathe,_ hyung. Breathe with me, okay? In for three, out for three.”

Obeying, Myungjun matches his breathing to the rise and fall of the chest beneath him. The slow pace calms him down, bringing him back to a more rational state of mind. At some point, Jinwoo must’ve begun rubbing circles into his back, and Myungjun is far too comfortable to move. Jinwoo hums, and Myungjun feels the vibrations more than he hears the noise.

“There you go,” he whispers, never halting his movements.

“Thank you, Jin-ah,” Myungjun mumbles, his cheek still squished against Jinwoo causing his voice to be distorted. He can sense the amusement that brings Jinwoo.

“Any time, hyung.” Despite his clear reluctance, Jinwoo manages to coax Myungjun into a sitting position, fixing his unruly hair in the process. “Come on, Dongmin should be back, soon, with chicken.”

Indeed, Dongmin does return with chicken, as well as a healthy serving of _tteokbokki,_ and bingsu for dessert. Myungjun tells him the news over dinner, receiving a pat on the back alongside a soft “I knew you could do it,” and it sounds an awful lot like a father congratulating his son. The night goes on with plenty of discussion involving the musical, as well as other things the members have been involved in. It’s rare, nowadays, to have them all eating dinner together, since Dongmin constantly has schedules and Bin and Sanha are now MCs, so they enjoy the meal while they can.

Later, when Myungjun is lying in his shared room with Dongmin, his anxiety begins to creep back to the forefront of his mind. Fear and insecurity keep him from slipping into dreamland, constantly reminding him that he’s not good enough, that everyone will know his sexuality, that he’ll be the reason Astro fades into obscurity. 

It’s with these thoughts that he falls into a fitful sleep, his eyes drooping as he finally succumbs to unconsciousness.

>>><<<

The incessant blaring of an alarm rouses him from his sleep. A groan spills from Myungjun’s lips as he fumbles blindly for his phone. Something feels… different, though. He struggles to place the strange feeling as he blinks his sticky eyes open, basking in the natural light peeking through his window--

_Wait._

Myungjun shoots up, immediately regretting the action after feeling the headrush it gives him, but he has bigger problems to worry about. Like how _this is not his room._ He thinks that’s a pretty big deal. The alarm is still ringing, and Myungjun furrows his brow before reaching over and silencing the digital clock. The time reads 6:30 a.m., which is only concerning because he’s used to waking up much earlier for work.

As he grows increasingly nauseous, cycling through several possible explanations for his current predicament. _Dreaming? Kidnapped? Amnesia?_

He pinches his arm, yelping at the very real pain. _Not dreaming._ Standing up, he crosses the unfamiliar (and quite messy) bedroom to a calendar, but it displays the correct date. Plus, he still remembers everything; nothing feels like it’s missing. _Not amnesia._

So that only leaves kidnapping, right? Just as Myungjun considers this possibility, he glances into a full-length mirror and stops dead in his tracks. Because there is something _very wrong_ with his body.

The first thing he notices is his platinum blonde hair, mussed from sleep but still very much _not_ the dark brunette he’d sported the day prior. Then, his eyes skim down his face. His cheeks are a bit chubbier, eyebags no longer present, a few stray pimples dotting his nose. And, although it’s difficult to tell, he’s pretty sure he’s a few inches shorter than he had been.

Before he can process the information, before he can even begin to freak out over this revelation, his thoughts are interrupted by—

“Jamie! Time to get up, don’t wanna be late for school.”

_Oh no._

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> So, this is my very first Astro fic, and I'm so happy that it's MJamie~ I don't know if this turned out ok, since I spent ages just editing this chapter ;^; But! This is just a prologue-- next chapter is where we get into the meat of things :>
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts, or if anything can be improved! I know my writings still pretty amateur but I want to get better~  
> Find me on Twitter @Noruway so we can be friends!
> 
> Love you Arohas <3 Thank you for reading~


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